Orian and the Rose
by sisterthemoon
Summary: Alistair tries to make a gift to his fellow warden, mage Orian Surana, but she can't accept it. Why? One shot, complete, may have related stories added later. Not sure if angst fits, but there you have it. My first DA fic, reviews welcome!


_AN: Bioware owns Dragon Age and all that comes along with it, I just let them take me for a ride._

_I finished Awakening with my first ever character a week ago, and as I am still in love with Origins enough to want to try for all the various achievements that I've missed, I'm playing through again. As a huge Alistair fan, this means playing through other romance options, much as that breaks my heart. I could avoid it, I know, by creating a male character, but omg, the male mage I created, the face annoyed me so much I had to start over again, and just defaulted to female._

_And, because it's so hard NOT to gain approval with Alistair, when the conversation with the rose came up, choosing that 'I'm not interested' dialogue option broke my heart. Damn you, Bioware, and your ability to immerse me so fully into a video game story that I about cry over breaking a video game character's heart! By the way, I know the first line is a bastardized version of what's in the game, but I can't bear to put myself through finding the right wording right now..._

_So, this little ficlet grew out of my feelings over that. It's a standalone one-shot (still working on my DA:O retelling), but I may subvert canon and give Alistair his well-deserved happy ending in a related story. And now that the AN's about as long as the damn mini-story..._

* * *

><p>The Wardens and the rest of their motley party had camped somewhere between Redcliffe and Denerim when Alistair finally decided to speak. Orian had noticed the flower he'd been carrying with him since Lothering, so many weeks previous, but elected not to ask him about it. She had already reconciled herself to a platonic relationship with the handsome templar, for between her elven heritage and her mage gift, there were already plenty of reasons to squelch those feelings. Throw his birth into the mix and, well, things were just made that much messier.<p>

When he finally did decide to speak, to offer her the beautiful red rose, Orian felt a clench in her heart. She could barely register the words after he'd first handed over the flower, until he'd nearly finished speaking.

"I think the same thing when I look at you," Alistair murmured, his voice quiet to avoid carrying to their traveling companions, with a hint of sweet vulnerability and shyness. "Such a rare and beautiful thing to find, amidst all this darkness."

Orian had already looked flustered before Alistair started to speak; once he finished, she looked distressed. "Alistair..." Pained, the mage murmured, "This...Alistair, I'm so...I care about you, truly I do, but I am not interested in you in that way." Her fellow warden's face fell, and Orian felt her heart lurch just that much more.

"I understand," Alistair's voice was soft, the effort it took to feign cheerfulness clearly evident, his upset written clear on his face. "We've got better things to do anyhow, right? We'd best get on with it."

"Alistair," Orian began, reaching a pleading hand out to him. "It's...if you care for me as much as this rose makes me think you do, please, please listen."

He'd been about to walk away, but the tone of her voice made him pause. He couldn't quite bring himself to look at her, to face her, but he tilted his head in her direction, tacit permission for her to continue.

"Thank you," the mage breathed, low enough that the words didn't carry. "My...this...I did not expect it would be his hard. I never meant to hurt you, please believe that. At first, when I met you...oh, Alistair, I could hardly breathe. But then the Joining, and what you told me about your birth..." She winced, seeing his spine stiffen; he had told her that his status as Maric's bastard had defined too much of his life, and she hated to give him a reminder of it.

"Alistair, we must prepare for the idea that you might become king. I know you don't want it," the mage hastened to add, spotting the horrified look on his face, "but what if we can't cure Arl Eamon? We cannot leave Ferelden to Loghain." She paused, as if looking for the right words, and slowly stepped around to face him, though did not force herself into his line of sight.

The templar-turned-warden's jaw was tight as he waited for the mage to continue, still resolutely looking away.

Orian she had to speak past a lump in her throat, seeing the expression on his face. "We must prepare for every situation, and for me, that means that you might someday be King, and I...where would that leave me? Much as we might be able to come to love one another, you know that we would have had to end it-even if I were to leave the Circle, to forsake my gift of healing magic, the Bannorn would never accept an elf as your wife and queen, and I... I could not share you, nor would I want you to share yourself." Somehow, she manage to get through that entire speech with barely a break in her voice, surprising even herself.

Alistair's face had gone through a variety of expressions, and though he still looked sad, understanding shone in his eyes when he finally looked back at the mage. "I..."

"No," Orian hurried to add, "let me finish. Please?"

In answer, he gave a quick, short nod, but said nothing.

Again, the mage offered a quiet murmured thanks before she continued. "So...I do care about you, Alistair, very much, and I hope you understand when I say that I do want you in my life...as my fellow warden, my friend, and my brother. If you cannot, of course, I will understand, but I..." Finally, Orian's voice failed her and she trailed off, shoulders lifting helplessly.

Alistair was quiet for several long minutes until he finally stepped forward and brushed his lips to Orian's forehead in a gentle, chaste kiss. "My sister, I'll do the best I can, though...I hope you'll forgive me if it takes some time."

Orian nodded, relief flooding her face. "Thank you, Alistair," she murmured as she stepped away. "Please...take all the time you need. I'm...I'll be here, when you're ready."

As he walked away, the mage watched his retreating form and made quiet vow that she'd see Alistair happy with a woman who he loved and who loved him someday. In her mind, there was no one more deserving.


End file.
